Mysteries Of The Past Unfolds
by TheWeepingRaven
Summary: BTVS Crossover. The Winchester siblings have long since dealt with what it really means hunting Supernatural creatures, loosing loved ones, dealing with their own personal problems and fighting between each other. Life as Winchesters is never easy.
1. Chapter 1

**Mysteries Of The Past Unfolds**

**A Supernatural Story**

**Chapter One**

**How It All Started**

**Author's Note**: I do not own anything from Supernatural. Eric Kirpke is the one that created the wonderful world of Supernatural. I do not own anything from Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is the one that created the amazing world of Harry Potter. I do not own anything from Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Joss Whedon is the one that created the brilliant world of Buffy. The only thing I own is my imagination (You can't have it!) and how I make my ideas for this story come true. :)

**Summary: **This is a new version of the story! It all began with a deal and then soon ended with the death of a mother. As John Winchester tries to overcome his sorrow and pain at the death of his wife, he begins his own mission for revenge. As the oldest, Harper Winchester is forced with the weight of protecting and watching over his three younger brothers, taking care of his father when he forgets, training to become a hunter like his father, and trying to keep his siblings oblivious to the darkness in the night.

As the second oldest, Dean Winchester learns just what the meaning of being "the middle child" really is. Dean soon discovers that perhaps he'd been fortunate to not be the oldest and deal with the pressure his father puts on his big brother. Though Dean still deals with the weight of watching his baby brothers Sam and Alex. While also trying to keep his brother from collapsing at the weight he's been forced to hold on his shoulders.

As the twins and youngest of the family, Sam and Alex Winchester have never truly wanted the life of traveling to town and cities, from hotels and motels and never really making friends. At lease they were fortunate enough to have each other, and their big brothers. They loved their family and the meaning their life gave them, but sometimes they wished for the normal life, with a backyard, a pet and a mother that took care of them.

The Winchester siblings have long since dealt with what it really means hunting Supernatural creatures, losing loved ones, dealing with their own personal problems and fighting between each other. With the job of a hunter, they discover that perhaps finding out the mysteries of their pasts isn't a very good thing after all.

**Pairings: **Dean Winchester/? , Samuel Winchester/? , Harper Winchester/? and Alexander Winchester/?

**Setting**(**s**)**: **Season 1 and above. This story will be AU in some areas. BTVS "flashbacks/memories" and Harry Potter "flashbacks/memories"

**Ratings: **NC-17 or M at times

**Warnings: **Violence, Strong Language, Adult Situations, Graphic Sex (Maybe), Alcohol Abuse, Mention/Show of Martial Abuse, Mention/Show of Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Mention of Drug Abuse, Murder, Suicide, Rape, Kidnapping, Nudity, Bar Fights, Fights, Mention of Religious Beliefs, Disbelief of Religions, ect.

* * *

**1st May 2008**

In Bobby Singer's cluttered, dirty kitchen a thick silence settled upon Dean and Sam Winchester as they sat in the uncomfortable wooden chairs before the aged oak table. Books and papers surrounded the two, filled with indecipherable scribbles and rare languages. An uneasy feeling churned in their stomachs as they desperately tried to find something to save Dean from his imminent death by hellhounds the next day. Sam gave an annoyed sigh; his eyes pulsed and burned from lack of sleep and desperate attempts at finding something to save his big brother from Hell.

"God damn it," Sam cursed under his breath. The stress and lack of sleep was beginning to take a toll upon the younger man. Tears of helplessness and agitation filled his sea green eyes as he glared harshly down at the table. Hands calloused from hard work and training rubbed his face. The palms of his hands pressed against his eyes, making the blackness become colored with stars.

Dean looked up from his bookwork. His bright hazel green eyes held a trace of fear, aggravation, and sadness in their depths as he looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow. His own eyes also burned with exhaustion from their long nights of researching for _something_ that could or would be able to save him from Hell. He didn't regret selling his soul so that his baby brother could live, but that didn't mean he wasn't terrified about _dying_ if they didn't find something. "I'm sorry Sammy," the oldest Winchester finally stated. His voice sounded hoarse and tired as he ran a hand roughly through his light brown hair. His mouth thinned as he looked at the haggard features being expressed on his baby brother's face.

"For what, Dean?" Sam inquired with a furrow of his eyebrows. His expressive eyes looked at his big brother, trying to discover what his brother was thinking. Dean was being unusually emotional.

"For leaving you here, by yourself, without anyone to watch over you," Dean wasn't usually expressive with his emotions, but how could he not be now? After all, within a day, he'd be dragged to Hell, leaving no one to watch over him.

"We'll find something Dean," The younger Winchester insisted. He wasn't going to give up. He would save his big brother. He could feel something heavy settle in his stomach at the way his brother was talking. It almost sounded like Dean was giving up. He never gave up.

Dean gave a halfhearted smirk at his brother's stubbornness. It was a Winchester gene; every one of them was stubborn as a mule. "You know, I wish we had more Winchesters than just us. Imagine, another big brother to help with the pressure dad put on me and a twin to keep you in check," He chuckled, never realizing that saying the 'W' word always led to bad things happening.

"Done!" A loud voice suddenly exclaimed in the room and with a flash of white light, the deal was done.

In London, England and Cleveland, one Harry James Potter and Alexander 'Xander' Harris disappeared from their homes, never to be seen again.

* * *

**Lawrence Kansas**

**2nd November 1983**

Mary Winchester walked into the decent sized nursery where two small six-month-old children lay, squirming and gurgling to each other. At the sound of her youngest boys a soft smile graces the young woman's lips. Beautiful blond hair lay over her shoulders in waves. Striking sapphire eyes looked upon the small children as she makes her way closer to the babies. Her skin almost glows in the dim yellow light of the nursery, and with her white nightgown silently swinging about her ankles**,** the mother of four looks like an angel.

A seven-year-old boy, with locks of raven black hair, holds his mother's left hand as he silently watches his surroundings. Eyes of emerald green swept over the crib were his baby brothers lay awake. A smile crosses his pink lips at the sounds his younger siblings make. His younger brother, by three years, was held in their mother's right arm and was also silent. Hazel green eyes lock onto the crib before him where his younger brothers now lay silent.

"Come on guys, let's say goodnight to your brothers," Mary says in a soft voice. Dean Winchester gives an eager smile and quickly drops to the floor onto his feet before hurrying toward his brother's crib. Lifting himself up on the railing, he leans forward and lays a soft kiss upon the twin's heads. With a shake of her head she releases Harper's hand and allows him to follow his younger brother. Mary smiles softly as she watches Harper keep a hold of his younger brother; making sure he doesn't fall, as the seven-year-old gives his twin baby brothers a kiss.

"Night Alex. Night Sam," Dean whispers as he looked lovingly down to his baby brothers. The six-month-old babies, Alexander and Samuel, coo up at their older brother with wide eyes the color of sea green, the same as their fathers.

"Night Alex. Night Sammy," Harper Winchester whispers softly too. He grins happily as his brother's give a gum filled smile up at their oldest big brother.

"Night loves," Mary whispers to her twin sons with a large grin. She glows with happiness as she looks down at her boys. Bending forward, she kisses Alexander and Samuel on their foreheads. Running her hand through Harper and Dean's hair she lightly taps them upon their shoulders, silently telling them to get down from the crib.

John Winchester leaned against the doorway of the nursery, watching his family with pride in his eyes. His dark brown curly hair, much like Sam's and Alex's, falls across his forehead. His eyes sparkle from the light in the nursery as he gazes at his large family. John was a very happy man. He was proud to have four beautiful children, all of them boys, and a loving wife. His life was perfect in his eyes.

"Hey Dean. Hey Harper," the man speaks up from the doorway. A large grin appears on Dean's face at the sound of his father's voice. Turning towards their father, Dean quickly brightens as he runs towards his father and lunges for his legs with a loud exclamation.

"Dad!"

John catches his son in his muscular arms with a chuckle, "Hey buddy! What do yah think? Do you think the twins are ready to play a game of two against two with you and Harper?" Their father questions him. He ruffles his son's hair lovingly as he looks down upon his oldest son.

"No dad," Dean replies shaking his head, a small laugh escaping his lips at how silly his father was.

"No?" John questions with a chortle. Harper gives a smile at his baby brother before quickly running past his mother and over to his father.

"Dad!" Harper hugs his father tightly, feeling calm and content as his father's strong arms wrap around him too.

"Hey Harp," The older man runs his fingers through the seven-year-old's hair and gives him a kiss on the top of his head. Mary grins as she looks on at her husband and oldest sons together. John lifts the seven-year-old and four-year-old up into his arms, keeping them close to his chest.

"You got them?" Mary asks as she brushes her blond hair out of her eyes and walks away from her sons crib and over to her three boys. Running her hand through Harper's hair she kisses him on the cheek before looking at Dean who looks back at her before glancing at his big brother. She walks slowly over to Dean and runs her hand through his messy light brown hair too. Rubbing his back, she smiles as she walks out into the hallway.

"Yeah, I got them," John affirms as he turned the lights off beside the door. He looks at the crib with a loving smile on his face, "Sweet dreams Alex, Sammy," He whispers tenderly, before walking out of the nursery doorway. He closes the nursery door only partly behind him, leaving it halfway open. John remains holding Dean and Harper in his arms while he and Mary walk down the hallway together and into their son's shared bedroom. They each lay one of them down in their own bed.

"Angels are watching over you," Mary assures Dean, before leaning down and giving him a kiss on the forehead. She grabs the comforter and pulls it up over him to keep him warm during the night. The room was painted both a dark blue and green color. Two nightstands were placed in between the beds that Harper and Dean slept in. A dresser was placed against the right wall, next to the closet. Bookshelves hang on the walls, filled with both school and storybooks.

"Love you mom," Dean yawns. Casting a loving smile at Dean, Mary turns and walks across the room to where Harper was anxiously waiting for his mother in bed. Harper looks up with bright emerald green eyes. They always amaze the young mother with how bright they are. A tired smile crosses his face as he looks up at his mother. Mary gives a smile as she hand combs his mess of raven black hair before giving him a kiss on his forehead.

"My sweet little boy," She says with love, "you are loved and watched by Angels."

"Love you mom," Harper whispers sleepily as he snuggles into his pillow. With a smile at her boys she walks over to where John stood in the doorway; Mary's footsteps were light and barely heard on the hardwood floor as she stops beside her husband.

"I'm going to head to bed John," She tells him softly as she wraps her arms around his waist. Leaning up on her toes, she gives her husband a soft kiss on the lips before pulling slowly away. A smile graces her lips as she stares into her husband's loving eyes. "I love you John," She whispers, her eyes tracing over his face, engraving the image in her mind before she turns away and walks out of her boy's bedroom and into the hallway. The sound of Mary's footsteps disappear as she disappears from view.

"I love you too Mary. I'll be in bed soon," John calls after her as he watches her disappear into their master bedroom.

"Dad?" Harper called out softly to his father who was still standing in the doorway. He didn't want to wake up his baby brother who had fallen into a deep sleep. John paused, about to head down the hallway, at the sound of his oldest calling his name. John turns to look at his son with a tired smile and a raised eyebrow. His bare feet slap the ground with light thumps as he walks towards the twin size bed.

"What is it Harper?" He questions as he sits himself on the edge of the bed. The blankets rustle as Harper squirms in his wooden bed. Dean's soft snores echo in the silence of the room, before Harper speaks once again, breaking the silence between father and son.

"Why can't Alex and Sam stay in our room?" Harper questions. The nightlight in the room was plugged in near the closet; it gave enough light for John to see Harry's curious green eyes looking up at him. John smiles and shakes his head with amusement. Raising his arm, he playfully messes up his son's hair.

"They're babies, Harper, and they need their own room," The older man replies with a twinkle in his eyes. "The only reason why you and Dean share a room is because Dean feels like he is better protected when he's around you," John remarks, a smile growing across his face at his oldest son's look. Harper's eyebrows scrunch together and his lips purse together. His father's answer didn't sit well with him, but he could understand Dean's need to be around him. He was the oldest and he was supposed to protect his younger brother.

"But if they're in another room…I can't protect them; not like I can protect Dean in here," Harper states very seriously. John's heart warms at his son's words. He feels proud that Harper takes being a '_big brother_' so seriously. Just like Dean did with Alex and Sam as well.

"You can protect them when you wake up tomorrow," John tells him. He pushes himself off of the bed and adjusts his pajamas and robe. "Get some sleep Harper," He states firmly, yet still in a soft voice, "You have your self-defense classes and equipment practice to go to tomorrow." As a former soldier, John always figured that his oldest son was better equipped to be able to protect himself, then to not be able to even raise a fist.

"Love you daddy," Harper whispers as he turns on his side and buries his head into the pillow once again.

"Love you too Harper," John replies just as softly. Walking out of the room he leaves the door ajar; enough for the soft glow of the halls own night-light to slip through.

* * *

Alexander and Samuel lay in their crib wide-awake. The two remain silent as they look up at their mobile that slowly begins to spin on its own accord. The clock on the wall across from the crib stops on twelve ten with a final tick. The nightlight that is plugged in the outlet besides the nursery door also begins to flicker erratically. The once noisy room; with sounds from the small ceiling fan and the ticking clock, stop, leaving the room in silence. The drapes that hang above the window sway with an unexplained breeze.

A figure unexpectedly appears over the young twin's crib with a sinister air about him. The young babies' eyes begin to water as tears cling to their eyelashes, before slowly slipping down their creamy white cheeks. Alex and Sam cry silently as their little mouths begin to quiver. They don't like the dangerous and dark feeling of the man. Even though they do not yet understand why they were feeling so frightened.

Mary sleeps peacefully as she lay curled up beneath the comforter of the bed. The baby monitor that sits on top of the dresser releases the faint sound of crying as Sam and Alex release their tears. Mary stirs in her sleep and readjusts the blankets covering her as she awakes; tired. Her long blond hair falls messily into her face as she raises her head off of the pillow.

"John?" She calls out groggily; looking over her shoulder she notices that the right side of the bed was empty. Yawning in fatigue Mary shakes her head groggily. Swinging her legs over the bed she rubs her eyes in exhaustion. She stands up gradually from the bed and heads out of the bedroom and towards the twin's room. Her feet silently and delicately tap the chilly wood flooring; her nightgown sways around her ankles from her movements and the breeze from the air conditioner. She makes her way to her son's nursery.

Mary reaches the end of the hallway and stands silently in the nursery doorway. Seeing a figure of a man already standing over Alex and Sam's crib she speaks quietly.

"John…are they hungry?" Mary asks her husband. He remains facing their son's crib; his back to her. He doesn't fully answer her; only shushing her with a finger to his lips. Shrugging her pale shoulders she mutters softly to herself. Making her way back down the hallway towards her oldest son's rooms to check on them, she notices the hallway light flickering crazily, causing shadows to dance on the walls of the hallway.

Mary's lips purse and her eyebrows furrow as she walks over to the hall light's switch. She raises a pale hand and taps the light gently, trying to make it stop. "Hmm," she hums to herself in thought before the sound of the television causes her to look towards the stairs. _'John must have left it on_,' She thinks to herself with a disapproving frown.

The young mother makes her way down the stairs with a creak. The glow of the TV gives Mary enough light to see where she was walking, so she doesn't trip and fall down the stairs. She freezes on the fourth step down when she notices that the sleeping figure in an armchair in front of the television was John. A feeling of dread and terror sets in her chest as she realizes the figure inside her son's room was not her husband. With a twist of her torso, she hurriedly makes her way back up the staircase in a panic. Her feet make light patter noises on the wooden stairs as she heads towards the nursery.

"Alex! Sam!" she shouts, her voice cracking with terror at what could be happening to her sons. Mary raises her hands and slams the door open before walking further into the room. She comes to a stop in the doorway near the wall. The moonlight's rays that enter through the windows give enough light to see in the room. The nightlight besides the doorway gives the room an eerie glow as it continues to flicker erratically. She freezes as she notices what was standing in front of her son's crib.

John jolts awake from the comfortable chair as the high-pitched scream of his wife echoes through the house. John jumps up from the chair and thunders up the stairs. His heart pounds painfully against his chest as thoughts filter through his head; all filled with horrible things that could have happened to Mary. "Mary! Mary! Mary!" He yells out with fear as he runs down that hallway towards the nursery. He glances to his son's rooms and notices, thankfully, that their door remained partly open, just as he had left it.

Reaching the nursery, he rushes through the open door and looks around for the source of the scream. He remains frozen for a short few seconds as his eyes glance around the nursery hurriedly. Finding no one in the room he slowly makes his way towards Alex and Sam's crib.

Glancing down at his two boys with a smile he notices that they are awake. Both of their faces are red and their eyes are watery from crying. "Hey Alex, Sam, you're okay," He tells them soothingly, looking down at his unharmed children. Using both hands he leans over the crib's railing and gently rubs both of their stomachs, trying to calm their squirming. His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as he notices a red substance between their heads. Raising a tan hand, his pointer finger lightly touches it.

Fear and dread spread throughout John as another droplet falls upon his hand. Pulling his hand away he notices that the red droplets continue to drip down. His heart pounds painfully in his chest. With a heavy feeling settling over him, he raises his head slowly up to the ceiling. "No…Mary!" He shouts in horror and grief as he falls to the floor in distress. His wife remained pinned to the ceiling as the gash on her stomach bled freely. Her beautiful face held an expression of pain and her mouth was open in a silent scream. As John continues to stare at his wife with wide eyes; he gives a startled cry as his wife's form suddenly burst into flames that was quickly spread across the ceiling and down the walls.

John remained frozen in shock at the sight until the sound of Alex and Sam's cries cause him to rise up from the floor and hurriedly pick up his youngest children, blankets and all, in his arms. Running out of the room he stopped at the sound of his sons calling for him. Relief filled him as he realizes that his other sons where unharmed. '_Thank god. I don't know what I'd done if they got hurt_,' He thinks in a jumble of thoughts. '_I've got to get them out. They have to get out. Alex and Sam have to get out of here, safe with Harper and Dean_.'

"Dad!" Harper called out in fear.

"Daddy!" Dean cried in terror.

The young boy's cries had John quickly handing Alex to Dean and Sam to Harper. He looks Harper in the eyes and hurriedly starts talking. He knows Harper would take care of his younger brothers. "Take your brothers outside as fast as you can. Don't look back. Now Harper, go!" He orders hastily. Harper nods and grabs Dean's arm. Harper runs down the hallway, his grip on Dean's arm was tight.

John watches his sons go before he runs back into the nursery and noticed the whole room was almost in flames. He uses his arms to block the heat from his face as he continues to fight to save his wife. "No! Mary!" He yells out in anguish before turning on his heel and running out of the room and down the hallway, following after his sons.

Harper made his way out the front door with Sam in his arms and Dean holding onto Alex. Harper tries to console his baby brothers, all three of them, but was unsuccessful as he too tried to contain his terror. The four siblings had no clue about what was happening. Harper pauses half way down the front lawn and looks up at nursery window and sees the glow of flames. Looking down as he continued to hear his brother's cry, "It's okay Sammy. I'm here," He murmurs softly, trying to calm the crying baby.

"Dean…Alex, you're okay, I'm here and I'll protect you, I promise," Harper vows. He tried to fight off the tears in his own eyes. He knew his mommy was hurt. He just hoped his daddy got her out okay. Dean sniffled and raised his small arms for his older brother to take Alex. With practiced ease, the seven-year-old held both Alex and Sam in his arms. Wiping his face, Dean leans forward and lays his head on his brother's shoulder.

John exits out of the front door before he swinging Dean into his arms and grabbing Harper's shoulder, pushing the older boy beside him to run as Harper holds the twins. Dean wrapped his arms tightly around his father's neck. John and Harper run across the grassy front yard and towards the end of the driveway. Behind them the nursery window explodes outward, causing Sam and Alex to cry louder and Dean to look around in confusion and panic as he realizes his mommy wasn't with his father. Harper ignores the pounding of his heart and the pain he felt at the thought of his mother not with them. "I gotcha," John declares gently to the crying boys.

"Shh…I've got you Sam, Alex," Harper whispers soothingly as he continues to run beside his father.

An ambulance and a fire truck pull up to the burning house a few minutes later. The firemen grab a hose and jog over to the flaming house. The sounds of people yelling could be heard over the sirens as police tried to push away onlookers.

John silently sits atop his black 1967 Chevy Impala with Dean on his right beside him, leaning against him. Harper sat on his left, silently staring in front of him as he held little Sam, who had gone silent. Little Alex was held tightly, but gently, in his father's arms. John looks at his four children with grief and pain filled eyes. His face is a blank mask.

* * *

**Reviews are welcomed! **

**I wanted to do something original, so this story popped into my head. My first version I didn't really like, so I decided to go with canon's version, but added Harry as Harper and Alexander as Xander. **

**In this story the two will be different, of course they'll be different, they're going to be raised by John Winchester as soldiers, especially Harper; he's going to have the weight of caring for his baby brothers, watching over his father and helping his father hunt, while keeping his brothers oblivious to it for as long as possible, on his shoulders. Then there's Alex/Xander who will be more self-confident, intelligent and strong. But he'll (hopefully) still be the one that cracks jokes and goes a bit sarcastic when the going gets tough. So just as a warning, those two will be different. Especially Harper, who will not be called Harry that often, to make it more original, it's going to be an annoying nickname his brothers give him, just like Sammy is annoying for Sam. **

**Update 04/18/2012: I'll be doing six chapters of their past as children/teenagers up until Sam and Alex turn eighteen, in which Sam (in the show) leaves for** **college. I have yet to decided if Alex will be doing the same, it depends on how I make his character mature over the years. Every three years will be one chapter.**

**I hope these chapters are interesting as it does show some memories, basically, of when they're children and teenagers. To those of your that wonder why Dean is the second oldest, I've always thought Dean deserves to have a childhood for once, and so, Harper is the one that never gets to experience a childhood.  
**

**Chapter Two - 1983 & 1986 - Harper is 7 and 10, Dean is 4 and 7, Alex and Sam are 6 months and 3.**

**Chapter Three - 1989 - Harper is 13, Dean is 10, Alex and Sam are 6. **

**Chapter Four - 1992 - Harper is 16, Dean is 13, Alex and Sam are 9. **

**Chapter Five - 1995 - Harper is 19, Dean is 16, Alex and Sam are 12. **

**Chapter Six - 1998 - Harper is 22, Dean is 19, Alex and Sam are 15.**

**Chapter Seven - 2001 - Harper is 25, Dean is 22, Alex and Sam are 18.**

**TheWeepingRaven**


	2. Chapter 2

**Mysteries Of The Past Unfolds**

**A Supernatural Story**

**Chapter Two**

**Author's Note**: I do not own anything from Supernatural. Eric Kirpke is the one that created the wonderful world of Supernatural. I do not own anything from Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is the one that created the amazing world of Harry Potter. I do not own anything from Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Joss Whedon is the one that created the brilliant world of Buffy. The only thing I own is my imagination (You can't have it!) and how I make my ideas for this story come true. :)

**Update**: For the date of William "Bill" Harvelle, I'm going to make it to where he dies on April 15, 1986, instead of May 16th 1995. It fits for my story, and since no one really knows when he died, I'm going with John Winchester's journal entry, instead of what Jo told the boys. Since it also says in the journal that Jo was four when he died, I'm going to make her born 1982, so she's a year older than Sam and Alex, and three years younger than Dean and six years younger than Harper.

**Song**: Unknown Soldier by Breaking Benjamin

**Summary: **This is a new version of the story! It all began with a deal and then soon ended with the death of a mother. As John Winchester tries to overcome his sorrow and pain at the death of his wife, he begins his own mission for revenge. As the oldest, Harper Winchester is forced with the weight of protecting and watching over his three younger brothers, taking care of his father when he forgets, training to become a hunter like his father, and trying to keep his siblings oblivious to the darkness in the night.

As the second oldest, Dean Winchester learns just what the meaning of being "the middle child" really is. Dean soon discovers that perhaps he'd been fortunate to not be the oldest and deal with the pressure his father puts on his big brother. Though Dean still deals with the weight of watching his baby brothers Sam and Alex. While also trying to keep his brother from collapsing at the weight he's been forced to hold on his shoulders.

As the twins and youngest of the family, Sam and Alex Winchester have never truly wanted the life of traveling to town and cities, from hotels and motels and never really making friends. At lease they were fortunate enough to have each other, and their big brothers. They loved their family and the meaning their life gave them, but sometimes they wished for the normal life, with a backyard, a pet and a mother that took care of them.

The Winchester siblings have long since dealt with what it really means hunting Supernatural creatures, losing loved ones, dealing with their own personal problems and fighting between each other. With the job of a hunter, they discover that perhaps finding out the mysteries of their pasts isn't a very good thing after all.

**Pairings: **Dean Winchester/? , Samuel Winchester/? , Harper Winchester/? and Alexander Winchester/?

**Setting**(**s**)**: **Season 1 and above. This story will be AU in some areas. BTVS "flashbacks/memories" and Harry Potter "flashbacks/memories"

**Ratings: **NC-17 or M at times

**Warnings: **Violence, Strong Language, Adult Situations, Graphic Sex (Maybe), Alcohol Abuse, Mention/Show of Martial Abuse, Mention/Show of Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Mention of Drug Abuse, Murder, Suicide, Rape, Kidnapping, Nudity, Bar Fights, Fights, Mention of Religious Beliefs, Disbelief of Religions, ect.

* * *

**7th November 1983 **

**Missouri Mosley's Home**

**11:09 A.M.**

John Winchester leans over towards the passenger side of the black Impala. His eyes upon the Victorian home that supposedly held a psychic; a psychic that would be able to help him find out what had brutally killed his wife. He had searched through the phone book for the last five and a half days to find a psychic that could help him. The last five had been unsuccessful. He hopes this one was the real deal. He leans back into the driver seat of his car and looks over at his silent son. Harper, the former chatterbox and happy seven-year-old, was now a silent sullen boy; ever since the tragic death of his mother. "Hey Harp, help me get your brother's up," John quietly tells the child.

Harper didn't respond verbally, but nods at him before slipping out of the car. He waits patiently as his father pushes the front seat forward. With the seats tilted forward, Harper can now climb into the backseat and begin to unclip his twin baby brothers from their car seats. Harper looks over his shoulder to see his father placing the twin's strollers on the sidewalk. With a small sigh, the raven-haired boy picks up baby Alex into his arms.

The six-month-old baby startles at the sudden movement before cuddling into his big brother's arms. Harper shakes his head as he places the six-month-old baby into his stroller and straps him. John tries to awaken four-year-old Dean, who remains oblivious to the movement and noises around him. The twenty-nine-year-old father allows a soft smile to spread across his lips at the grumbling from Dean at being awoken in the middle of his nap. John glances from the corner of his eyes to see Harper strapping little Sammy into his stroller.

"Come on Dean, you need to wake up buddy," John says with a shade of impatience coloring his voice. With a shake of his head, the father holds the four-year-old in his arms. He shuts the driver's door behind him, making sure to lock the Impala, and walks around the front of the car and up onto the sidewalk.

John was tired…exhausted…drained. He couldn't remember the last time he truly slept. His eyes turn to look down at his oldest and he frowns. He wonders when Harper last slept when he notices dark bags underneath the child's eyes. "You got 'em Harper?" John inquires. He waits for his son's nod before the small family makes their trek to the front door.

* * *

**11:49 A.M. **

Harper stood silently in the living room. Eyes wander over the room, gazing upon pictures hanging on the walls, bookshelves surrounding the doorways that lead into the kitchen and entrance hallway, and at the young woman sitting across from him in an arm chair, talking to his father about what had happened to his mother. The seven-year-old gently holds his Dean, who thankfully remained asleep. "I'm so sorry John," The dark skinned woman sighs, "to lose her so ruthlessly…and left to raise your boys by yourself." A sad smile is directed at John who sits stoically on the couch beside Harper.

Harper's gaze is dragged away from the adults and towards the sound of whimpering coming from the stroller. Silently he takes a seat on the edge of the couch and silently adjusts his hold on Dean. "Shh…" Harper hushes softly, he uses his left foot to slowly rock the stroller back and forth to keep his baby brothers silent and asleep. He's uncomfortable in this position, sitting on the edge of the couch rocking his brothers and holding Dean in his arms, but he doesn't want to bother his father. It looks like this conversation was important.

"There isn't much I can tell you, to be truthful," The young woman begins. Her dark eyes are thoughtful as she gazes into John's. Before he can open his mouth to speak, Missouri Mosley continues, "What I can tell you, is that whatever it was, it was evil and cruel… twisted," She states with a shake of her head.

Missouri's eyes turn to look at the silent seven-year-old. She can clearly see the child's pain, sadness, and anger at what befell his mother. She can also see the power hidden within him, just waiting to be released. "Such power…" She murmurs with a soft smile. She turns her gaze away and turns to look back at John, "Your wife, Mary, had a deep dark secret that she never wanted you to know about." There's a pause as she contemplates telling him the truth. "She was a hunter and none of that animal huntin' neither," Missouri firmly remarks before John can demand what she means, "She hunted the things in the dark. The Supernatural**:** Vengeful Spirits, Wendigos, Shape-Shifters, anything that was in the dark."

John Winchester sits in a frozen silence. Shock and surprise is clearly seen across his features as he stares back at the other woman. "Wha– How?" He finally utters with wide eyes. His hands roughly rub his face. Could this be possible? Could his Mary have been killed by something out of nightmares and myths? His resolve hardens, as he knows deep down that it's the truth. His Mary had been killed by one of those things that hide in the night. "What do I do? How do I find the thing that killed her?" John questions as he looks from Missouri and over to Harper. He would get his revenge for his wife, and for his children who would never truly remember who she was.

Missouri instinctively knew that she couldn't change John Winchester's mind. She knows that his boy's lives will be changed forever when he begins his crusade for revenge. She knows that the oldest of John's will have the weight of protecting his baby brothers, helping his father with his revenge, and caring for the man as well. "You can find Pastor Jim Murphy in Blue Earth, Minnesota. He's a Pastor at Salem Evangelical Church and he's very familiar with the Supernatural," Missouri begins. She watches John write down the name and location. "A man named Caleb Orson, he's a hunter, can be found in Fremont, Colorado. William Harvelle will be at Harvelle's Roadhouse in Nebraska. He's another hunter. Bobby Singer is a hunter as well; he runs Singer Salvage Yard in South Dakota."

"Thank you," John breathes out. His shoulders sag in relief at finding help. A weight had fallen from his shoulders about information about what had killed his wife and that there were people to help him find it.

"You're welcome," Missouri says with a soft look on her features. "You just make sure you take care of those boys," She smiles at the sleeping children, and Harper.

"You ready to go buddy?" John questions as he stands from the couch. He's ready to move and head towards Minnesota to get some answers. Harper nods. He hesitates when his father bends down to take Dean from his arms. Missouri notices his hesitancy and can already see the loss of a childhood. The boy has already changed. Harper slowly releases his tight hold on his brother and lets his father take him. He lets his left foot drop to the floor before he stands. He keeps the discomfort he had been in from that position to himself.

Harper grabs the stroller and follows his father out to the Impala. He doesn't listen to what his father is saying to him. He watches Dean closely and then glances down at Sam and Alex to make sure they're still asleep too. The feeling of coming change settles heavily on his mind as he gets settled in the front seat. He knew his old life was over and that a new one was going to take its' place.

* * *

**Three Years Later **

**Los Angeles County, California**

**15th April 1986 **

**A Highway**

They have been driving through the day and partway through the night to reach a hunter by the name of William 'Bill' Harvelle for his help with a hunt. His father was too cautious to hunt with just him, as hellspawn were nasty sons of ah bitches. The ten-year-old turns his eyes towards the backseat, checking on his seven-year-old brother and three-year-old twin brothers. Dean was busy trying to keep his younger brothers preoccupied. The twins seemed to be in no mood to pay any attention to their big brother and were trying to see how much of a mess they could make in a short time period.

"Dudes cool it," The oldest Winchester sibling states as he turns around in his seat so he can see his baby brothers. He raises an eyebrow in amusement and dread at the mess smeared across the twin's faces, hair and hands. "What did you give them Dean?" Harper inquires with a shake of his head.

"Food," Dean replies in a "duh" tone. Harper glares at his brother before sighing with a roll of his eyes.

"I know that dumbass," The pre-teen snaps.

"Watch your mouth Harper," John orders gruffly from the driver seat as he turns to glance at his oldest, "I don't want your brother's learning that kind of language," He continues. Where had his son heard that kind of language? Maybe he should keep the boy away from other hunters from now on, until he's a little older and can handle the language. His resolve wouldn't last long, as John Winchester would soon forget about it with a new case of something Supernatural occurring.

"Sorry sir," Harper apologizes with a frown. "But seriously Dean, what did you give them?" He demands, "Do you know how long it takes to wash them? It's gonna take me even longer tonight with the twins covered in that sh–" He stops himself from continuing at the sharp look his father gives him. At only ten Harper was already cursing John thinks to himself. '_Mary would be so proud_.' He thinks sarcastically. "Stuff," Harper finishes with an innocent smile at his father, who only looks at him in amusement and shakes his head.

"They had honey and peanut butter sandwiches," Dean admits after a few moments of silence. An angelic expression settles on his face as he stares at his big brother. He notices the burgeoning anger on the other boy's face and realizes that perhaps telling the older boy what he had given the twins was not such a good idea.

"You little fuc-" Harper began furiously. In a split second he was half way over the seat to reach where Dean was sitting.

"Harper Christopher Winchester!" John shouts over his oldest son's angry threats and Dean's frightened squeaks. "What did I just tell you about cursing in front of your brothers?" John demands as he reaches out with his right hand and roughly yanks the older boy by the back of the shirt back down into his seat. The twins started crying at the loud yelling coming from their brother and father. "Hush, Alex, Sam," John soothes his youngest. They sniffle and pout as they calm down.

"I'm gonna kill that little-" Harper stops himself and takes a deep, calming breath. He knew Dean, the little shit, had given their baby brothers those sandwiches on purpose; just to piss him off and make his life more difficult. He knows Dean doesn't realize what kind of weight he had on his shoulders. That he had to take care of him, their twin brothers, their father, and keep up with both hunting and school work. He's just thankful that he's nearly eleven and in the fifth grade.

"Now, you're all going to sit silently for the rest of the ride and if I so much as hear a peep from either of you, Harper, Dean, you'll get a butt kicking you don't want," John threatens. The two boys know what he means by that. Their father would never abuse them with punches, kicks, or slaps to the face, but spankings and hard chores were quite possible. They both slide silently down in their seats, not talking as their father ordered. It was going to be a long drive.

* * *

**10:47 P.M.**

**Lucky 13 Motel**

Dean Winchester smiles in amusement from the doorway of the motel bathroom as Sam and Alex scream and giggle insanely as they happily play in the bathtub with each other. He nearly bursts into laughter at the exasperated expression on Harper's face. It was always a hassle to wash both of the twins at the same time, and it's even worse when they were hyped up on sugar. Dean knew his brother blamed him completely for giving the twins the honey and peanut butter sandwiches.

"Dean I swear to God or whatever being that exists, if you even think of laughing, I'm going to lock you outside for the rest of the night," Harper promises as he's splashed with a wave of water from the two young boys. He glares playfully at Sam and Alex who smile with full sets of baby teeth. He remembers the hell that came when they both began to teeth. One baby was hard enough to deal with, but two was just impossible. It was even worse because they went hunting on top of that. During those days sleep was just a myth.

"You wouldn't!" Dean denies with a firm shake of his head. However he wasn't so sure on the inside. He can still remember the time Harper had tied him to the bedpost when he consistently pestered his big brother for some ice cream. Their father was not pleased, but Harper had found it amusing.

"Try me," Harper challenges with a raised eyebrow. He knows he wouldn't actually do it; he knows what was in the dark, while his brother didn't. He blinks rapidly as yet another wave of water splashes out of the tub and onto him. He sputters and coughs as water drips down his face. He knows he looks like a drowned rat. "Alright you two, bath time is over," He firmly announces.

"Nooo Harper!" The twins yell, but it sounds more like _Har-puh_. Identical puppy dog eyes gaze up at the older boy, begging for a little more time. Harper can't get over how different the twins look, while behaving the same. Sam had lighter hair; a messy brown, while Alex's hair was a straight dark brown, nearly black in color. Both had identical eyes colors, but their skin tones were different. Sam's skin is paler than Alex's and each twin had different birthmarks.

Harper shakes his head and reaches for their towels. He quickly picks Sam up and wraps him with the green towel before he sets the small boy back down. He then picks up Alex and wraps him in a towel and dries him off. "Dean, watch them while I drain the bathtub," Harper orders as he sets the other boy beside his brother and turns to drain the bathtub.

Harper straightens and cracks his back from bending over the tub to wash his baby brothers. Turning around he pauses as he notices all three of his brothers are gone. "Dean!" Harper yells in annoyance as he steps out into motel's large room. He sees the two beds, each king sized, and the shabby looking wooden table in front of the motel's only window. He sees the equally shabby couch placed before the table and the television sitting upon the long wooden dresser. He sees the small fridge in the corner of the room, set besides the small shelf filled with food. It was then he saw his brothers.

He watches with raised eyebrows as Sam and Alex run around the room butt naked, screaming at the top of their lungs. Dean is lying upon one of the beds watching his baby brothers with amusement. He laughs as the twins continue running around, still naked and screaming.

"Yeah?" Dean questions with amusement in his hazel green eyes.

"You were," Harper sighs with a shake of his head, "Never mind." He reaches down as his brothers run past and hauls both little brats into his arms. Sam and Alex continue to scream and started to cry as their playtime is suddenly cut short. "Hey, cool it," The raven-haired boy orders with a no-nonsense tone.

"Down. Down!" The twin's cried with pouts and tears in their eyes. "We don't want bed! We don't want dress!" They scream right into their oldest brother's ears, making him wince.

"Stop being such drama queens," Harper says with a roll of his eyes. He carries the two children to their bed, which they share with Dean, and sets to changing them into their pajamas and putting them to bed.

It's nearly half an hour later before Sam and Alex are finally asleep in their beds with the pillows surrounding them so they won't fall off. It's nearly eleven at night and Harper is waiting for his father to come and take him on a hunt. Harper pauses near their father's bed and smiles softly at the sleeping form of Dean. He didn't even notice him falling asleep. Chuckling softly, he walked over and gently lifts Dean from his half hanging position.

Dean mumbles and groans in his sleep as he curls into the pillow beside him. Harper shakes his head and pulls off his shoes, pants, and shirt and dresses him in a pair of blue and black pajamas. The oldest Winchester sibling lifts the sheets and comforter over Dean's smaller form. Harper lovingly rubs the light brown hair and whispers a soft, "Goodnight," to the crashed out figure in the bed. Taking one last glance at the dreaming form, Harper steps back and over to his bag. He silently and efficiently readies the weapons his father has told him he would need.

* * *

**California**

**Devil's Gate Reservoir**

**11:23 P.M.**

Nighttime hunts were always the best ones for Harper and his father. Harper snaps to attention at the sound of heavy footsteps he recognizes as his fathers. He adjusts his bag's strap on his shoulder and quietly walks to the door. Glancing one last time around the room to make sure it was well protected; he slipped out of the room and locked the door behind him. He always hated leaving his brothers alone while he and his father hunted, but he knew they were as protected as could be. "Ready to go Harp?" John inquires with a bright gleam in his eyes. Hunting always seemed to make his father happy.

"Yes sir," Harper utters with a firm nod. Together, father and son make their way down the hallway and towards the black 1967 Chevy Impala. In the passenger seat of the car sits another figure, one that Harper is only vaguely familiar with, as he had only met him three times. "Mr. Harvelle," The raven-haired pre-teen greets with a friendly nod.

"Harper," Bill Harvelle replies with surprise. "I'm surprised to see you coming with us," He says with a raised eyebrow towards John.

"Don't start with me Bill," John warns with a shake of his head, "I don't tell you how to raise your kid, don't start tellin' me how to raise mine." His dark green eyes clearly told the other hunter that there will be hell to pay if he makes another comment about the boy with them.

"Fair enough," Bill replies. "And it's Bill, Harper. No need for that Mr. Harvelle shit," The man says with a friendly wink and a smirk.

John gives a sigh. "I really should stop havin' Harper come with me on hunts with other hunters," The father speaks dryly. Perhaps he's to blame for his oldest son's crude language.

Bill raises an eyebrow with his amusement clear, "And why is that?" the man inquires.

John scoffs and shakes his head, "You haven't heard my boy's language," He taps his fingers against the steering wheel. "It can be downright nasty at times," He remarks offhandedly. The Impala purrs contently down the darkened highway, driving farther away from city life and deeper towards the Devil's Gate Reservoir.

Harper leans forward and places his arms upon the front seat with his head propped up on them. "I'm not that bad," The boy denies with a shake of his head. "I just…let it slip sometimes," He defends himself with a small shrug as he looks at Bill with a smirk. "Of course, I've heard worst from dad, but you don't hear me telling him not to do it."

Bill gives a chuckle of amusement. "I like you kid," The older man announces with a smirk, "You give your daddy enough grief." His chocolate eyes glimmer in the dim light from streetlights as he turns to look at the boy. He feels his heartstrings pull as he looks at the boy. For such a young child he has a weight on his shoulders that no child should be forced to carry. Bill wonders if perhaps John is raising his boy's right. Last time he saw the Winchester boys he noticed Harper taking care of his baby brothers instead of acting like a boy his age should. Bill also notices that Harper tries to keep his brothers oblivious to the life he and his father lead, so they can remain as innocent as possible. It seems to have worked so far. Bill is proud of the boy's behavior; especially with how hard it must be for him to never truly know what it's like to be a child.

"I try not to," Harper replies with a shrug, "That's usually Dean's job." Brilliant green eyes sparkle with mischief and mirth. "Of course, the little brats enjoy torturing me," He sighs in exasperation.

"I don't know how you handle those boys John," Bill remarks with raised eyebrows. He could barely handle his Joanna at times, but to have to raise four boys, it must be so much worse.

"I have Harper helping me," John responds in a dry tone as he glances at Bill before looking back to the road. He's anxious to get this hunt over with so he can start on the next one. With a flick of his finger, John turns the left blinker on and turns onto the dirt road that leads into Devil's Gate Reservoir. The road is bumpy and uneven from potholes, bumps, and trenches.

The classic car pulls into an opening covered by trees and bushes; hiding the Impala from view. They step out of the car and walk silently through a meadow that leads to a river, a rocky cliff, and a strange tunnel. "Who will be the bait?" Harper inquires. Bill shrugs carelessly and figures he might as well.

"That will be me. Yer daddy is more anxious to kill these sons of ah bitches than I am," Bill confides. Harper nods slowly and doesn't remark on it. He knows what he's supposed to do. He's not meant to ask questions; he's only supposed to help his father and Bill with their hunt.

"Let's get this hunt finished," John says gruffly as he begins a salt line around the perimeter. Harper helps his father and Bill with the salt line. Harper never realizes that he forgot to connect a small part of the salt line together, which would protect Bill from harm. He was slowly becoming tired from the long night. No child at his age should still be up so late. With their job done, Harper and John head towards the tree line and sink into the darkness. It was nearly one in the morning and both were beginning to fill with energy for this hunt. They both kneel and wait in silence for the sound of the hellspawn. Harper's stomach churns with anxiousness as his leg begins to bounce of its own accord. John too is eager for the hunt to begin; causing him to accidentally scuff the salt line with his foot. The two Winchester's freeze at the sight of something exiting the tunnel; and nothing stopped it.

It looks like smoke and sounds like a million flies. Bill, who was looking up at the sky, looks down just in time for the hellspawn to flow right into him. Harper and John watch in horror as Bill Harvelle starts seizing; like a condemned man in an electric chair, except there were two voices emanating from his mouth. One was the thing; the hellspawn. Harper and John rush into the clearing and raise their weapons at the thing inhabiting Bill's body.

The two Winchesters don't know what language the hellspawn is speaking, but its voice is horrible. The two watch with frozen shock, as the hellspawn inside of Bill seems to tear into him, tearing him to shreds from the inside out. Blood gushes from the steadily growing, larger, wound in his stomach. They watch with wide eyes as Bill finally falls to the ground. His arms are wrapped around his stomach, holding his intestines in his hands. They listen as the man gurgles and prays to see his Ellen, Joesph and Joanna one last time. Harper's eyes burn with pained tears as Bill looks to the two of them with wide, pleading eyes. "John, Harper, shoot me, please shoot me, John, Harper," The man pleads; rambling for death and to see his wife, son and daughter one last time. John and Harper silently cock the hammers of their guns before pulling the triggers.

It seemed like the catastrophic hunt lasted an eternity, but it was over in less than a fifteen minutes. Bill Harvelle was dead. Harper is silently shaking; it's barely noticeable as he continues to stare down at the blank eyes of Bill Harvelle. Harper opens his mouth to speak, but pauses and closes his mouth. "Help me move 'em Harp," John whispers reverently in the still silence of the reservoir. Harper snaps himself out of shock and moves with his father towards Bill's unmoving body.

The two Winchesters silently lift Bill and carry him to the Impala. They gently set him down and head to the trunk of the Impala for blankets. John pulls them out and walks back to the side of the car and lays them out. They silently lift Bill's body again and set it on the blankets. They wrap him in them before placing him in the backseat of the car. John and Harper are suddenly thankful that they had taken the car seats out of the backseat before they had left a few hours earlier.

Harper moves silently away from the two and looks at the salt lines to see what has happened. His flashlight trails over the lines slowly. His stomach dropped at the sight of his father's scruff mark and a part of the salt line not connected. His throat tightens and his eyes burn fiercely as he realizes what he too had done to Bill Harvelle. Oh god, he thinks to himself with wide eyes. Turning away from the salt line he looks back at his father and walks slowly up to him and the Impala. His eyes snap back towards the backseat, his eyes seemingly drawn to the shadowed figure. "Dad?" Harper finally chokes out as he tears his eyes away from the backseat and over to his father.

"Yes Harper?" John inquires softly as he looks down at his oldest son.

"W-what are we – what are we going to do about…Bill?" Harper asks with sad eyes and a frown on his lips. John sighs and rubs his face harshly as he leans back and stares up at the night sky with a frown of his own.

"We're gonna give im' a proper burial," John finally answers after a stifling few minutes.

"And Ellen…Joanna and Joesph?" The ten-year-old asks. He feels horrible about what he and his father had to do, what they created because of two small, stupid, accidents.

John sighs, "We tell them what happened." This was the worst mistake he ever made. He had been careless and stupid and it had gotten a good man killed. Who had been a husband, a father and a damned good hunter. He doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Ellen, Joesph and Joanna. He frowns heavily at the thought. The poor girl, she's only four years old and her brother only seven. How is he going to tell them? He can't just let Ellen do it. He's responsible. And what of Harper? How is she going to deal with the idea that his son killed Bill as well, if only to put the man out of his misery?

"It was an accident dad," Harper says softly but firmly, "You didn't know about the salt line getting messed up, you and I didn't know about the salt line not being connected and we helped Bill by taking him out of his misery." John wonders at times why he placed so much responsibility on his son. How could he handle knowing that he put so much pressure on such a young child's shoulders? Harper is his soldier, his oldest; the one he counts on to follow his orders without a question, to watch over his baby brothers without a sound of protest. How could he have done this to his son? It was far too late to change what he created. It will forever be on his shoulders that he made his oldest a soldier.

Was he a horrible father?

"It was a rookie mistake Harper," John replies with a heavy sigh, "We should have known better, and now a good man is dead because of it." He doesn't mean to make it sound so harsh, but it's the truth, and nothing will ever change that. And nothing will ever change what they had had to do. "Let's give Bill the burial he deserves and then head to Ellen's." The older man slips into the Impala and turns the car on before rolling the windows down. It's time to move on and head to their next destination.

Harper quietly stares out the window as his mind continues to flash back to Bill's death. It will weigh heavily on his mind and soul for the rest of his life.

* * *

**Reviews would be awesome!  
**

**I hope you like what I did with some of the information discovered from the show and changed to fit my ideas for this story. Y  
**

**Flashback/Memories Chapter Ages - **

**Chapter Three - 1989 - Harper is 13, Dean is 10, Alex and Sam are 6. **

**Chapter Four - 1992 - Harper is 16, Dean is 13, Alex and Sam are 9. **

**Chapter Five - 1995 - Harper is 19, Dean is 16, Alex and Sam are 12. **

**Chapter Six - 1998 - Harper is 22, Dean is 19, Alex and Sam are 15.**

******Chapter Seven - 2001 - Harper is 25, Dean is 22, Alex and Sam are 18.**

**These chapters are needed, to understand why some of the characters will be different in the show. Like Dean, as you've all probably noticed, Dean's not as mature as he was when he was shown in memories in the show. That's because he doesn't have to have the weight of taking care of Sam and his father. It's Harper that takes care of his siblings, father and also hunts and deals with school. Though Dean will grow up a bit when he finally discovers the Supernatural world.  
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**Also, I hope I haven't made any of the characters OOC. They will be slightly different because of their different childhoods, but hopefully, their personalities will have some qualities from how you know them from BTVS, Supernatural and Harry Potter. Though I'm pretty sure Harper is pretty much like Harry already, just more mature and paternal.  
**

**Hope you enjoyed!  
**

**TheWeepingRaven  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Mysteries Of The Past Unfolds**

**A Supernatural Story**

**Chapter Three**

**Author's Note**: I do not own anything from Supernatural. Eric Kirpke is the one that created the wonderful world of Supernatural. I do not own anything from Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is the one that created the amazing world of Harry Potter. I do not own anything from Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Joss Whedon is the one that created the brilliant world of Buffy. The only thing I own is my imagination (You can't have it!) and how I make my ideas for this story come true. :)

**Note**: Just so you all know, I hate the "F" word that is used for gays sometimes, but for this chapter, it will be used. Even though I hate the word! I have gay friends and family members and I hate how some people can be so narrow minded and prejudice. Anyways, just wanted to let you all know so you don't get offended at seeing that word being used! That word shouldn't even exist, in my opinion.

**Summary: **This is a new version of the story! It all began with a deal and then soon ended with the death of a mother. As John Winchester tries to overcome his sorrow and pain at the death of his wife, he begins his own mission for revenge. As the oldest, Harper Winchester is forced with the weight of protecting and watching over his three younger brothers, taking care of his father when he forgets, training to become a hunter like his father, and trying to keep his siblings oblivious to the darkness in the night.

As the second oldest, Dean Winchester learns just what the meaning of being "the middle child" really is. Dean soon discovers that perhaps he'd been fortunate to not be the oldest and deal with the pressure his father puts on his big brother. Though Dean still deals with the weight of watching his baby brothers Sam and Alex. While also trying to keep his brother from collapsing at the weight he's been forced to hold on his shoulders.

As the twins and youngest of the family, Sam and Alex Winchester have never truly wanted the life of traveling to town and cities, from hotels and motels and never really making friends. At lease they were fortunate enough to have each other, and their big brothers. They loved their family and the meaning their life gave them, but sometimes they wished for the normal life, with a backyard, a pet and a mother that took care of them.

The Winchester siblings have long since dealt with what it really means hunting Supernatural creatures, losing loved ones, dealing with their own personal problems and fighting between each other. With the job of a hunter, they discover that perhaps finding out the mysteries of their pasts isn't a very good thing after all.

**Pairings: **Dean Winchester/? , Samuel Winchester/? , Harper Winchester/? and Alexander Winchester/?

**Setting**(**s**)**: **Season 1 and above. This story will be AU in some areas. BTVS "flashbacks/memories" and Harry Potter "flashbacks/memories"

**Ratings: **NC-17 or M at times

**Warnings: **Violence, Strong Language, Adult Situations, Graphic Sex (Maybe), Alcohol Abuse, Mention/Show of Martial Abuse, Mention/Show of Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Mention of Drug Abuse, Murder, Suicide, Rape, Kidnapping, Nudity, Bar Fights, Fights, Mention of Religious Beliefs, Disbelief of Religions, ect.

* * *

**18th January 1989**

**Saturday: 11:08 A.M.**

**Kingston, Idaho**

**Motel 8 **

The motel room was not the most sanitary, but they had stayed in far worst. He sits silently at the wooden table that sits before the grimy window. He fights the urge to grimace in disgust and turns his attention to ten-year-old Dean and six-year-old Sam and Alex who silently play a board game with each other. At times Harper misses being able to forget the world that he and his siblings have been forcefully pushed into. Harper tried to keep Dean oblivious to the world of the Supernatural as long as possible, but was unsuccessful when Dean turned nine.

By then, the younger boy was curious and demanding answers about why their father always disappeared and why he usually disappeared with Harper. That night, Dean remained awake when Harper and their father were talking and overheard their conversation. It was the next morning when Dean asked what he and their father meant by werewolves, full moons, and killings. The older boy sat his baby brother down and painstakingly told him everything.

It had been one of the worst days of Harper's life.

He never wanted to take his baby brother's innocence away, but it was too late now. He sighs and closes his algebra book with a snap. He's tired of staring at the jumbled mess of letters, numbers and equations. It's starting to make his head throb. "Dean, did you finish your homework?" The older boy demands from his position in the cushioned wooden chair.

Unlike his father, he actually had an interest in his sibling's lives. That didn't mean his father didn't care about his sons; he just tended to hunt more often than not. Harper loves his father more than anything, but he sometimes wished that his father would stop and realize that he had sons he was missing seeing growing up. Harper knows their father loves them and would do anything for them, but he was never one to show it, not since six years ago. Harper had become the father, the mother, and the big brother in their lives, as their father saw them as soldiers more than sons. Harper made sure though, that his father never pushed them too hard. He respected and obeyed his father, but his brother's were different.

"Yeah, sure," Dean states in a distracted tone, as he remains concentrated on the board game. Harper frowns at his brother's complete disregard at his question.

"Dean," Harper begins in a familiar voice. It's one that their father uses whenever one of them gets in trouble or doesn't listen to him. Harper does try to stay out of trouble as much as possible, unless it's defending and protecting his baby brothers. Anyone or anything trying to hurt his siblings was in for a world of hurt. "Did you do your homework?" He questions again, this time his voice firmer.

"No," Dean says annoyed as he looks away from the game and over to his big brother.

"Then get to it," Harper looks at his brother with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed over his chest. Dean gives a drawn out, over exaggerated sigh and stands slowly from his position in front of the board game he was playing with his younger brothers.

"Harry, can't he wait until the games finished?" Sam whines with a pout and big puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah Harry, can't he wait to do it?" Alex pouts and stares beseechingly at his oldest brother.

"We're almost done," The twins, chorus with sweet smiles.

"No, Sam, Alex," Harper replies with a shake of his head, "Dean needs to do his homework before dad takes him out." The thirteen-year-old stands from the table's chair and takes a seat across from Alex and Sam. "I'll finish the game with you, but then you two need to put it away and relax," Harper orders. He ignores the groans from Sam and Alex.

Dean sighs and sits at the motel table and starts on his fourth grade math homework. He can't wait until he's in the fifth grade; it shows that he's getting older. "Harper," Dean calls out to his brother nearly ten minutes later as he stares down at the problem he's stuck on.

"Yeah Dean?" Harper questions as he stands up from the floor and walks over to his younger brother.

"I don't get it," Dean simply states. He leans back into the chair and allows Harper to lean over his shoulder to look at the equation.

Harper hums softly to himself as his eyes scan the paper and his mind goes over the equation. "You just need to find the common denominator for twelve and nine. It's not that hard," He explains with a teasing smile. He ruffles his brother's hair, making the younger boy groan in annoyance and pushes his hand away. Harper walks over to the motel's small kitchen and sets to making his younger brothers something to eat. He's in the middle of making grilled ham and cheese sandwiches when there is a knock on the door. They've run out of food again, and there's only enough for his baby brothers to eat. This isn't the first time he's gone hungry to feed his younger siblings.

The four Winchesters freeze at the noise and turn to look at each other. The boy's father has the motel key, so why would someone be knocking on the door? "Dean, watch the food," Harper orders. Dean quickly follows his big brother's order and walks to the stove to watch over the sandwiches. Harper tells his younger brothers to put the game away as he makes his way towards the door.

The knock sounds again and echoes loudly in the small room. The thirteen-year-old watches Sam and Alex sit at the wooden table beside the kitchen. Harper unlocks the door's two locks and opens it a crack. The sight that meets his eyes makes him pause in surprise. There's a man and a woman dressed in suits and holding briefcases in their hands. "Yeah, can I help you?" Harper questions warily.

"Is your father here?" The man asks with a serious expression.

"No. Why?" The thirteen-year-old looks the man over with distrust. His eyes turn to look at the younger woman. She has red hair, light gray eyes, and pale skin. The man is a bit older than her, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight. His hair is a light blonde, his eyes a warm blue, and his skin a dark brown.

"Are you Harper Winchester?" The question causes alarms to ring in his mind.

"Who's asking?" Harper looks between the man and woman. He glances over his shoulder at the sound of plates being set on the table and sees Dean setting the table for his brothers to eat their lunch.

"Social Services," The young woman replies. "My name is Taylor Wilson, this is my partner Kyle Rogers," Taylor introduces herself with a small smile. They show their identifications with their information that they were indeed who they said they were. Harper would be able to tell a fake ID from a real one, and this one was real.

"Why is Social Services here?" Harper was pretty sure there was no reason why Social Services should be paying a visit to him and his brothers. Did they do something to cause it? They couldn't have. They'd been keeping under the radar and not drawing attention to themselves.

"We've had some…red flags brought to our attention by some concerned citizens," Kyle states, "May we come in?" The blonde is rather uncomfortable talking in the doorway of the shabby motel and feels even more uncomfortable with the piercing green eyes staring at him. The social workers watch silently as an internal debate rages in his mind.

Harper comes to a decision. He steps back from the door and opens it, allowing the two social services workers inside. The television is softly playing a cartoon show, which Alex and Sam are watching while eating their food. Dean is sitting at the kitchen table, doing his homework, watching his baby brothers, and eating. Dean glances up from his books and looks to see Harper walking to the table by the window with two mysterious figures. He feels worry building in his heart as he takes in their nice suits and briefcases. "Now Mr. Winchester, we just have some questions for you and your brothers."

"Why do you need to talk to them?" Harper demands. His eyes are cold as he glares at the two workers. Taylor and Kyle share a look of surprise. It seems young Harper Winchester was very protective of his siblings.

"It's just a routine investigation to see if your father is a fit parental figure for you and your brothers," Taylor soothingly says as she gently sets her leather satchel on the table. Kyle places his at his feet.

"My father is a good father," Harper defends his hero, his idol. He loves his father unconditionally. He would do anything for him, just like he would do anything for his siblings. "He would do anything for my brother's and I," he finishes with a firm expression.

"Harry?" Sam asks as he walks to his oldest brother with wide eyes. His face is messy from the ham and cheese grilled sandwich.

He internally grimaces at the infernal nickname. "Dean, get me some wipes for Sam and Alex, will you?" He asks his younger brother. Dean nods and stands up from the table and walks into the bathroom. "Yeah Sammy?" Harper turns his attention back to his youngest brother. What could his brother want? Sam doesn't reply, he only holds his hands up in the air. Bending over the chair arm, he lifts six-year-old Sam into his lap. Sam smiles as he cuddles into his brother's lap.

"Here Harp," Dean hands over the two wipes for Sam and Alex. A distressed gasp catches Harper's attention and he sees Alex glaring at Sam. Harper's lips twitch at the jealously shining in Alex's eyes. Alex and Sam were similar in the sense that they both wanted what the other had, and it seemed Alex wanted to be in his lap too. "Come 'ere Alex," Harper sighs as he extends his hand. Alex gives a bright smile that lightens his expression and quickly runs across the room and over to his big brother. Alex crawls into his brother's lap, relishing in the warmth of his big brother.

Harper shakes his head as he meticulously wipes his brother's hands and faces clean before tossing the paper towels in the trashcan beside the table. His gaze is dragged away from his brothers to the two social workers silently watching him. Dean looks at the unknown figures and takes a seat beside Harper, snuggling against him. His hazel eyes are wary and distrustful. Taylor and Kyle were watchful during the scene displayed before them. It was clear these four siblings cared deeply for each other. "Now, we just need to ask you some questions, all right?" Kyle reassures as he looks at the four Winchesters. They nod in understanding.

"Have you ever gone hungry?" Taylor questions.

"Of course not," Dean blurts out before Harper can open his mouth to reply. "Harper always makes sure we don't go hungry when he watches us while Dad is gone. And when Dad is here, he makes sure we've always got food in our stomachs," he finishes out of breath with his arms crossed over his chest. He really didn't like these people. Taylor and Kyle nod as they write on pads of paper.

"And what about you Harper, have you ever gone hungry?" The question receives only a shrug from the teenager as he stares blankly at the two adults. They sigh and shake their heads.

"Have you ever had a stable home?" Kyle breaks the silence between the young boys and them.

"When I was seven; Dean was four and Sam and Alex were six months old," Harper replies shortly. He didn't want to talk about this subject. Dean barely remembers their mother as it is, and Sam and Alex will never know what she looked like, except from the few pictures they salvaged from the wreckage. It's too painful for him to think of a beautiful smile, a pretty voice, and a caring nature. It feels like a lifetime passed since he was held with warmth and love. He always made sure his brothers felt it though.

"Why is that?" Taylor questions, her steel gray eyes curious.

Harper's jaw ticks as he fights the urge to grind his teeth. "Our mother was killed in a house fire when the twins were six months old. After what happened…my father couldn't stand settling back down in Kansas, and he couldn't find any other place suitable enough to settle down in. So when he got a new job that let us travel around the country, he took it," Harper explains in a dry tone.

"Have you ever remained dirty for any amount of time?" Kyle inquires. He looks up from his notepad.

"No, they've never remained dirty for days at a time," Harper replies in a dark voice.

"And what about you?" Taylor looks at the thirteen-year-old with raised eyebrow.

"Sometimes," Taylor and Kyle know he won't explain; they can only guess and contemplate what he means by that one worded statement.

"Do you have good grades in school? All of you?" Kyle solicits as he looks at Dean for the answer.

"Yeah," Dean nods in agreement. "I have A's, B's and some C's, Harper makes sure to help me when he can. Dad does too, when he's not too tired from work," he continues. "Harper has A's and B's in his classes," He looks to his twin brothers with a smile, "The twins also have good grades, always getting A's and B's and getting help from Harper or Dad." Kyle and Taylor notice that Harper seems to be always helping or taking care of his younger siblings. Then again, if their father was the only source of income for them, it was no wonder he took care of his younger brothers.

"Do you live in good environments when you stay in motels or anywhere for that matter?" Taylor queries.

Harper sighs and leans into the chair, his arm adjusts around his baby brothers, making sure they don't fall off his lap. "Does this look nice?" He questions. "Look lady, my dad does everything he can to make sure we have a roof over our heads, food in our stomachs, and water to clean ourselves," He finishes. Of course he omits that he does almost everything when taking care of Dean, Sam and Alex.

"May I ask your youngest brothers a question?" Taylor looks to Harper with a kind smile. Harper looks thoughtfully at the woman before nodding slowly. He nudges his baby brothers in his lap. "Samuel, Alexander," She calls out and catches the twin's attention. "Do you love staying with your big brothers and your father? Are you happy with them?"

"Yeah huh," Alex agrees with a bright smile. A dimple on his right cheek appears when he does. "I love my daddy, he's the greatest! Harry says he's a super hero and helps people," Alex says with innocent, sparkling eyes. "I love Harry too. He's the greatest big brother ever," His head nods rapidly, the exuberant child making his dark brown hair fall into his eyes. "Dean's cool too. He's always playing games with us or watching us when Harper goes to the store or helps daddy with something," The young child finishes.

"And what about you Sam?" Taylor questions.

"Yeah," He agrees with a cheerful grin. "I love my daddy. He's the strongest man alive." The light brown bangs fall into his eyes too as he looks childishly up at her. "Harry is the greatest big brother I know. He's always taking care of me, Alex, and Dean," He utters with a sweet smile. "He also tells us stories and sings to us or plays with us when he can," Sam pauses and takes a deep breathe. "Dean's awesome too! He's always playing and taking care of us when Harry has to do something," Sam finishes with a tilt of his head. Alex and Sam hold each other's hands, as they remain sitting on their brother's lap. Taylor nods at what they say and shares a look with Kyle before writing something down on the notepad.

"Well, there seems to be no abuse." Kyle ignores the indignation radiating from Harper and Dean at his assessment. "You have food, clothes, you go to school, and you have a roof over your heads, I see no reason to take you from your father," he finishes.

"Not that you could," Harper mutters softly. It's too soft for the social workers to hear, but loud enough for Dean to hear. Dean smirks at his brother's statement. Their father would never let his boys go that easily.

"Thank you for your time," Taylor says politely.

"Like it was welcomed," Harper mutters to himself. He looks at Dean and nods for him to let the two social workers out. Dean gives a small smile and follows the social workers out. He unlocks the door and opens it, before letting them out and locking the door once again. "Do not tell dad about this when you go shooting. He'll get in a foul mood if you do, and you want him happy, right?" His big brother asks.

"Yeah of course," Dean nods. He knows to keep this visit a secret. Harper nods before he walks over to the bed and sets the sleeping twins down, covering them with the comforter to keep them warm.

* * *

**9th May 1989**

**Huntington, Utah **

**Shooting Range**

**2:27 P.M.**

It was rather unfortunate that his father had rescheduled their shooting after Alex and Sam accidentally blurted out about the Social Services workers visiting back in January. It then led to John Winchester quickly heading out of the state and making their way to their next place of destination. It took nearly three months before John finally decided to take Dean out to a shooting range, after Harper continued to mention it every few days.

Dean bounces eagerly on his heels as he waits impatiently for his father to get out of the car. John chuckles in amusement at his child's excitement and eagerness to start practice shooting. He shakes his head as he steps out of the driver's side and heads towards the trunk of the Impala. He can't recall seeing Dean this excited or happy, not since he found out what lurked in the dark.

He can hardly remember Harper ever being a child. Even before Mary's accident, Harper had always been mature for his age, watching over his baby brothers with diligent eyes. He knows his oldest tries to keep his baby brothers oblivious to the world hidden in the dark. He did well for six years with Dean, until he decided he wanted to know why his father and big brother were so secretive. He knows it nearly broke Harper when Dean finally asked the one question his oldest son had been dreading.

John knows he should wish for Dean to remain ignorant of the Supernatural world, but he can't help but be relieved that his second oldest knows. Did that make him an awful father? For wishing his son to know what was out there? That he was glad some of the innocence Dean had was gone now? He shook himself as he pushed those doubtful thoughts away and settled for thinking of father-son time with Dean. When was the last time he did something with Harper? The last time they had done something together, that was actually unrelated to hunting, was years ago. He feels like a failure at times.

"You ready champ?" John questions as he pulls out a small duffle bag filled with guns and ammunition. It was thanks to Harper that got him to actually take Dean out shooting. The small "suggestion" the teenager made had him think about taking Dean out for a father-son bonding experience.

"Yes sir!" Dean eagerly shouts. John chuckles as his son salutes him and follows after him as they make their way towards the cement half wall that enclosed a large area filled with targets. He sets the duffle bag upon a wooden table and unzips the bag, allowing his younger son to see glistening guns and boxes of ammunition. "Wow," Dean breathes with wide eyes. John smirks in enjoyment at his son's awe.

"You are never to touch these guns Dean," John begins as he pulls them out and gently sets them upon the table, "until you learn to handle them carefully. Only then will Harper teach you how to clean them," The older man says with a small smile. Dean nods in understanding as he watches his father with keen eyes. "Come here Dean," He orders. The ten-year-old steps forward and stands in front of his father. John meticulously shows his son how to stand and hold the gun. "Now, when you shoot the gun, it's going to have a bit of a recoil," Dark green eyes looked at Dean who gives a nod of understanding. "Go on ahead Dean."

Dean smiles and follows his father's instructions on how to stand and shoot before pulling the trigger. There's a loud 'bang' that follows as the bullet is released from its chamber. Dean shoots at the targets one after another. As the chamber finally empties, John glances at his son and together they walk around the table wall over to the targets. A proud grin crosses the man's lips at the sight. "I'm proud of you son," He says as he looks at a target that had holes around the same area.

Dean beams and his chest fills with pride. His father never speaks like that to his siblings or him. He doesn't think he has ever heard his father say something like it to Harper, to someone that definitely deserves it. "Thank you dad," He replies with glimmering hazel eyes.

* * *

**20th August 1989 **

**Smithville, Louisiana**

**2:47 P.M.**

Harper presses her up against the wall; his mouth gently kissing her neck, nibbling, and biting; leaving hickeys along the smooth skin. A hand is placed upon her slim hip, keeping her in place while the other hand slowly slips underneath her shirt and gently rubs her flat stomach with calloused hands. The young girl moans in pleasure at the feel of his mouth on her neck and the hand on her stomach. She feels like a puddle of mush in his arms as he sucks and bites at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He can't remember how long the two of them had been hiding in the park's small clearing; all he knows is that he's enjoying his time with his new girlfriend, Lucile. "Har – Harper," She whimpers into his ear as her hands run through his thick, messy black hair. She gives a sharp tug on his hair.

Harper groans at the pull and slowly kisses his way back up her neck. His lips cover Lucile's, commonly known as "Lucy", in an animated kiss. His tongue slips out, licking and nipping her bottom lip. Lucy moans and opens her mouth, allowing the taller boy entrance. Their tongues entangle in a sloppy dance as the kiss becomes intense. Her hands slide underneath his black, skintight shirt, causing him to shiver with yearning. Lucy's hands feel hot against his skin.

With a smirk he bites her left earlobe, pulling it gently with his teeth. Harper had long since discovered Lucy's hotspots. After a few months spent flirting with girls, and learning what they liked to hear, he became good at what he was now doing. Of course, he had shared kisses and make-out sessions with girls he flirted with, but Lucile is his first actual girlfriend. Harper wonders vaguely if his father would be proud or annoyed with him.

Lucile breathes heavily in his ear as he goes back to kissing her neck, as well as leaving her breathless from their previous kisses. Just as they were really getting into the moment, a voice breaks their connection.

"Harper!" Harper is suddenly yanked away from his new girlfriend and pulled a few feet backwards. He recognizes the voice that called his name and it makes him wince as he tone of his father's voice is none-too pleased. "What the hell are you doing?" John Winchester demands as he looks down at his son's flushed face.

"Uh…kissing?" Harper answers with a raised eyebrow.

"I know what kissing is Harper," John's voice holds a warning to watch his tone. "What I'm asking is why are you not watching your brothers?" he demands with a raised eyebrow. John watches as realization settles over his son's face.

"Shit…" Harper curses with a wince. How could he have forgotten his brothers? His brilliant green eyes trail back to Lucile Monroe, and he realizes why he forgot. Ever since he and his family had settled in little Smithville, Lucile had set her eyes upon the green-eyed boy. Two weeks into their stay Lucy finally made her move on the older boy. And who was Harper to refuse such a pretty specimen like Lucile? She was the only girl in their grade who's breasts were growing (she was nearly a size C) and she was pretty, with curly, shoulder length brown hair, clear blue eyes, and creamy pale skin. His tongue licks his bottom lip as his mouth goes dry looking Lucy over.

"Get in the car Harper," John orders, "And say goodbye to your little girlfriend." The drill sergeant was out and he was not happy. Life was about to go to hell. Harper internally grimaces at the thought.

"See yah around Lucile," Harper promises with a smirk and a wink. He leans forward and catches her lips in a short but steamy kiss before pulling away. He gives a wave as his father drags him away and back to the car.

"What the hell were you thinking?" John demands as he places the Impala into drive and pulls out of the park's parking lot.

"I was thinking about making out with my girlfriend," Harper says with a sigh. He crosses his arms over his chest as he broods in the passenger seat. It seems he'll never have any fun with constantly watching his brothers and always putting them before himself. But didn't he deserve some time for himself?

"You have a responsibility to watch and care for your brothers Harper," John snaps in reply. His hands tightly grip the steering wheel as he watches the road.

"What about me?" Harper demands angrily. "Don't I deserve something for myself? It's always Harper do this, Harper watch your brothers, Harper help me on a hunt, Harper this and Harper that," His voice rises as he continues to justify his actions to his father. His bright eyes glisten with angry tears as he looks at his father. "I've always watched Dean, Sam, and Alex, all the fucking time. And never once have I complained. I love my brothers I just need sometime for me," He sighs, "Is that too much to ask?"

John remains quiet as he drives back to the small apartment he had rented. He knows his oldest does deserve to have some time for himself, but sometimes you need to put your own needs last. "That doesn't give you the right to leave your brothers unwatched while you play tonsil hockey with that girl Harper," John finally replies after a thick silence has settled over father and son. "Do you understand me? You can't be doing this. You need to take care of your brothers."

Harper shakes his head at his father's words and his teeth clench. Finally he sighs and relaxes into the car's leather seats. "I'm sorry sir. It's won't happen again," The boy states with a frown as he glances at his father before looking out of the windshield.

Lucile would be Harper's first and last girlfriend, as he grows older. Taking his father's words to heart, he will never have someone to take his time away from his brothers; instead he'll have one-night stands or sex buddies so he can remain completely concentrated on his younger siblings. This would also be the last and only time Harper ever questions his father for years. With a sigh, Harper unclenched his jaw and remains staring out the window.

No other words are shared between the two.

* * *

**17th October 1989 **

**Wilcox, Alabama**

**8:39 P.M.**

"Harper Winchester you're under arrest for assault with a deadly weapon," The police officer began as he turned the thirteen-year-old around and handcuffed him. Harper groans and hangs his head. His father was either going to be happy with him or displeased with him for what he did, maybe both. Only time will tell.

"This is ridiculous!" Harper exclaims with a heavy sigh and small struggle. He's bruised, bloody, and sore from the fight he was just a part of. Just the thought of his enemy made the teenager's blood boil.

"Do you want to add resisting arrest?" The officer questions with a raised eyebrow. Harper glares at the cop before he stops struggling and following along.

Harper sighs as he leans lazily against the jail cell bars with a frown. He winces as the movement pulls at his split lip. His feet tap against the floor as he stares up at the ceiling blankly. The sound of police officers meandering around their offices and the sound of the other detainees was a persistent and unwelcoming noise. Harper knows he should feel some sort of emotion, like fear, but all he feels is pride and a little bit of pain. "Winchester, your up," A police officer calls from the other side of the jail door.

The raven-haired teenager slowly pushes himself to a standing position and walks over to the door. Turning around he holds his hands out and allows the officer to handcuff him. He takes a few steps forward before turning around and waiting for the officer to open the door. When it's open, he steps out slowly and allows the officer to leads him into a questioning room. The officer takes the handcuffs off the teenager's wrists and pushes him onto one of the chairs. Harper quietly leans back into the metal chair and waits patiently for the two detectives to come inside.

He feels no fear towards the two Detectives that are bound to come inside. What he really fears is how his father is going to react: having to come to the police station to pick him up. He knows they won't make him post bail, especially after they get his statement. "Mr. Winchester," One of the detectives greets him as he steps into the room, quietly followed by his partner. "My name is Detective Rick Grimes, this is Detective Shane Walsh."

"We'd like to ask you what happened earlier tonight," Detective Walsh states as the two men take a seat across from him.

Harper nods and crosses his arms over his chest. "I was heading to the store to buy some things for my younger brothers," He begins slowly as he looks at the two officers with a blank expression. "We ran out of food again," He explains, "So when I was walking down the street, these guys jump me. They were calling me a fag."

"Why were they calling you a fag?" Detective Grimes asks. His expression showing he's displeased by the word. Anyone sensible person would be.

"This kid wasn't sure if he was gay, so he asked if he could kiss me and see is he was," Harper shrugs carelessly. "He goes to the same school as I do. I figured it won't kill me if I kiss a guy; it's not like being gay is some disease you contact by hanging around other gays. So, I let him kiss me. He decided he liked it; I think he has a crush on me," Harper confides, switching his position on the chair, leaning his arms on top of the metal table.

"The three men that attacked you, they were from your school?" Detective Walsh asks with a disbelieving look.

"Nope," Harper pops the 'p' with a shrug. "People from my school probably told them all 'bout it. And they decided to teach the "fag" a lesson." He slouches down in his chair and looks down at the table. "Stupid idiots," He shakes his head.

"Where did you acquire the pipe?" Grimes questions Harper as he writes on a yellow notepad with his ballpoint pen.

"In the alleyway; they jumped me. I was just protecting myself from getting my ass handed to me," Harper rubs his face tiredly as the night finally catches up with him.

Walsh and Grimes share a look, having a silent conversation with each other. They finally come to a decision and look back at the young teen. "From what evidence we found in the alleyway your story fits the evidence acquired. We'll be calling your father to come get you." Walsh pushes himself up from the chair and walks out of the interrogation room. Grimes stays behind as he waits for his partner to come back.

"Dad is going kill me," Harper mutters to himself as he drops his head onto his folded arms. "He's going be pissed," He continues to himself, "It's a new record." He looks up through his bangs at Grimes who's watching the kid with an unexplainable look.

"Harper, you're father's here," Walsh says as he opens the door. Harper feels his stomach drop at the thought of being in the same car as his father. As Harper appears in front of the police station his body goes cold at the displeased expression on his father's face. Silently, the two Winchesters sign everything they need to, to leave.

"What the hell did you do Harper?" John demands as he looks at his oldest. His dark eyes are disgruntled as he looks at the teen.

"I didn't do anything. These guys tried to jump me and I defended myself. I let this kid kiss me and they didn't like it so they tried to beat the shit out of me," Harper explains as they get into the car. John grunts and shakes his head. Trouble always seems to find Harper some how. "How was the hunt?" Harper questions. Deciding to go with a safer subject.

"Fine, until I got a call from the police station saying that my son was arrested," John grumbles as he puts the Impala into reverse and pulls out of a parking spot. Adjusting the gears, he puts the Impala back into drive before leaving the parking lot.

Harper sighs heavily, "I was heading to the store to get some food for us, we're out again," He dully responds as he looks over at his father. John nods and drives towards the small market on the corner.

John looks over at his son. "You get your ass beat?" He questions. The silence that had settled between the two is broken with that question.

"Of course not, you should have seen what the other guys look like," Harper smirks with amusement and self-satisfaction.

John smirks as well as he ruffles his sons hair. "That's my boy," He states proudly as he gives his son a small smile before turning his gaze back to the road. Harper smiles to himself at his father's words. Just a little attention from his father just now is enough for him to feel proud and loved.

* * *

**Reviews would be fantastic!**

**I'm not sure when I'll have the next chapter or two out, I've become a bit more busy with life. But I will continue to write Chapter Four and Five. **

**Tell me what you think of this chapter. I'm always interested in some ideas as well for when I do get the story taking place during Supernatural season 1. I'm not completely sure how I'm going to get that to work. So, suggestions are wonderful!**

**Chapter Four - 1992 - Harper is 16, Dean is 13, Alex and Sam are 9. **

**Chapter Five - 1995 - Harper is 19, Dean is 16, Alex and Sam are 12. **

**Chapter Six - 1998 - Harper is 22, Dean is 19, Alex and Sam are 15.**

******Chapter Seven - 2001 - Harper is 25, Dean is 22, Alex and Sam are 18.**

**Hope you all enjoyed!  
**

**TheWeepingRaven  
**


	4. Author Note

Hey everyone,

I'm sorry to inform you all but I will not be able to write any more chapters for the next year or so. On December 5th, Wednesday, I was in a pretty bad car accident. The accident practically severed my arm. The surgeons were able to repair most of the damage but it severed the nerves in my arm and most of the muscles were damaged. I can neither feel nor move the fingers on my right hand. It's been immobilized so even typing this is a long left handed process… Because of this, it's going to be a very long and painful time of recovery. I apologize to everyone. Right now, I'm just going to concentrate on getting better and getting the mobility back to my hand.

Thank you for understanding.

TheWeepingRaven


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